Star Trek Miniskirts: Feminist or Nah?

Aesthetics carry messages about values. Star Trek, while frequently written about in historical, literary, and technological terms, was also a visual experience with a distinctive aesthetic, and there’s a lot there to talk about! I just wrote a term paper on the topic, and it’s my pleasure to bring you some highlights related to Star Trek’s costumes — specifically, the infamous miniskirts.

StarTrek.com

William “Bill” Ware Theiss, a gay costume designer at the beginning of his career, developed the costumes for the full run of the show. The iconic uniforms were the third version developed over the course of several pilots, and their final form was a combination of practicality and aesthetics. The two earlier styles made use of velour tunics, chosen for their futuristic sheen under stage lights. Velour shrinks with every wash, though, and since television costumes are laundered every day, the tunics had to be continually refitted for the actors.

The uniform colors, along with brightly-colored sets and lighting, were chosen in part simply because color televisions were becoming common in the United States in the mid-1960s when Star Trek first aired. The parent network, RCA, even advertised their color TVs by telling customers how good Star Trek looked on them — The bright red color in particular was added to blue and gold versions because it was “RCA color TV-friendly.” The final effect is sleek and colorblocked, a “futuristic” impression largely stemming from minimalistic styling. The bright colors and figure-hugging cuts also project a confidently eyecatching demeanor.

The adjectives “confident” and “eyecatching” take on another layer of meaning when we address the miniskirts, of course. Theiss probably took his overall inspiration from then-current stewardess uniforms, in a time when airline stewardesses symbolized the height of female professional sexuality in the “jet age.” Airline advertisements presented the stewardess as a consummately stylish and well-travelled young single woman, and bragged about how quickly the average stewardess got married. In the early 1960s the average stewardess uniform was a tailored suit with a nod toward military styling, but by mid-decade the uniforms were becoming increasingly fashionable, with “wild” colors and shorter skirts. Some details such as the front skirt flap and the outline of Yeoman Janice Rand’s checkerboard hairstyle appeared in Life magazine just before Theiss began designing his costumes.

startrek.com

The miniskirt portion of the costume was a brand new trend at the time. Some stories about the first miniskirts place them mere months before Theiss’s design. The idea for their use on Star Trek is usually attributed to Grace Lee Whitney, the actress who portrayed Yeoman Rand, who suggested short skirts after being told to present an “undercurrent of suppressed sexuality” between herself and Captain Kirk, but sex appeal certainly played a role either way since the studio had asked for sexier costumes after those velour tunics (and black pants for men and women) in the pilot episodes. Theiss obliged, especially when designing for guest actresses, originating the “Theiss Titillation Theory” that sex appeal lies not in the amount of skin shown, but rather in the relative likelihood of a costume falling off. Many of his costumes appear precarious indeed, but it must be said that women’s Starfleet uniforms look quite secure in comparison.

For feminist critics, miniskirts are a consistent focal point and often assumed to be a sexist symbol, particularly since women were “forced” to wear them as part of their uniforms. However, when the costumes were designed and originally worn, perceptions were very different. Nichelle Nichols, who played Lt. Uhura (the most visible woman on the show and a groundbreaking character for racial integration), discussed the issue in her autobiography:

In later years, especially as the women’s movement took hold in the seventies, people began to ask me about my costume. Some thought it “demeaning” for a woman in the command crew to be dressed so sexily. It always surprised me because I never saw it that way. After all, the show was created in the age of the miniskirt, and the crew women’s uniforms were very comfortable. Contrary to what many may think today, no one really saw it as demeaning back then. In fact, the miniskirt was a symbol of sexual liberation. More to the point, though, in the twenty-third century, you are respected for your abilities regardless of what you do or do not wear.

Grace Lee Whitney made similar pro-miniskirt statements in her own autobiography. Both actresses agree that the miniskirts were considered sexual, but found that to be personally preferable.

Memory Alpha

At the same time, in the 1960s, longtime editor of Cosmopolitan magazine Helen Gurley Brown was promoting the idea of the “single girl” in her magazine and several bestselling books. Brown’s single girl was professional and successful, but also playful and sexual. She was single and desirable, but had little or no interest in marriage or children, which in the 1950s were the assumed end goals for a woman’s sexuality. Female Starfleet crewmembers embody this idea perfectly. They engage in romances and flirtations with other characters, clad in symbols of sexual liberation, but marriage is always presented as incompatible with a Starfleet officer’s life. The contrast is even more apparent when Star Trek is compared to other science fiction programs of the same era such as Lost in Space, which simply transposed traditional female housekeeping roles onto another planet.

Colorful miniskirts played one final role, again embedded in trends and concerns of the time: They reassured an anxious public that femininity wouldn’t disappear in the space age. The first woman had already flown to space in 1963, Soviet cosmonaut Valentina Tereshkova. Her “mannish” and militarized appearance seemed to indicate dangerously unstable gender roles. While Star Trek challenged those roles with its scripts — even challenging heteronormativity in important ways — miniskirts helped camouflage those statements and make them palatable for the audience.

This has been a brief (haha super long) look at the gender implications of TOS uniforms. There’s more to say, lots more, but I hope you’ll weigh in yourselves: What impact does an individual designer have on his costumes, when they’re for TV? What did sex appeal do or mean on the show, or was it simply prurient? What about the the male characters’ sexualization that I had absolutely no room to discuss, or the guest actresses and costumes? Let me know in the comments!

22 responses to “Star Trek Miniskirts: Feminist or Nah?”

I found your article very interesting and although you described it as ‘superlong’ I coud have easily continued reading. The comment from Nichelle Nichols, ‘in the twenty-third century, you are respected for your abilities regardless of what you do or do not wear’ really hit home with me. That comment alone, expressing that the show had that ethos, makes the issue of the miniskirts on the show irrelevant to me, as I’m guessing they were supposed to be within the show itself.

I’m going to do 2 things now, follow you and look up heteronormativity.

Thank you! Totally agree about Ms. Nichols’ explanation. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about Trek as a whole, that sexuality can be present and yet irrelevant at the same time.

And thanks for the follow! I do monthly Star Trek posts here — you may be interested in last month’s column, “Uhura Wears Red.” (The fact that I caused someone to look up heteronormativity makes my day, too. 😉 )

Interesting read. I liked that it discussed how the Star Trek uniforms came to be. Also enjoyed seeing the thoughts of the actresses. Grew up watching Star Trek re-runs, and I remember Uhura definitely being portrayed as a strong, competent officer.

Most definitely the series pushed feminist topics. Despite the fact that women wore these they behave in a professional fashion. If you watch early TNG episodes both men and women wear them, though no senior officers save counselor Troi. It’s as if they are saying the flightiness of youth is accepted in younger personnel and gays in the military among the males though not in the higher ranks. No male main characters wear them, yet formal attire consists of an extremely long tunic. Likely accommodations Roddenberry made with the network.

Interesting! I remember a few of the early TNG episodes had men in the skirts as well. One of the early TOS episodes showed a woman in the pants version, but as far as I know it only happened once. The original conception had everyone in basically identical velour shirts with black pants, though, no visible legs at all, so it’s hard to tell what Roddenberry originally envisioned.

Thanks, I never knew about that in the original series. This is another example of Roddenberry folding to societal pressure. Another hint is his being one of the first TV producers to use a woman writer, D.C. Fontana.

Now that I think on it, the skirts were worn primarily by medical and science staff (albeit junior officers), essentially support staff. Thus it seems, that science and medicine (at least the nurses) are suitable specialties for females or the female analog, while bridge operations, security and engineering were more suitable for the male analog as well as any command rank. At any rate, the part about command being reserved for the masculine holds true.

Yes the mini skirts made these statements more palatable it also helped shift the LGBTQ community to the right. As if to say that the male analog in any relationship is to be obeyed/catered to. We’re just like you.
If you reference an old Too Close for Comfort episode where Ted Knight’s navy buddy is gay and brings his partner to dinner. His wife clears the table saying I’ll let you men rest and his buddy’s partner says I’ll help you. This reinforces patriarchy by redefining the definition of those allowed in.
Although to be fair, this episode deserves recognition for being one of the first TV shows to discuss AIDS (even if it did so in a roundabout fashion) , Henry’s buddy’s partner is mentioned at the end of the show, that he took him back home to die. Another example of making a potentially controversial message more readily digestible by audiences of the day.